


Muddy Waters

by KomaedaClear



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Blood, Blood and Gore, Canon-Typical Violence, Gore, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Punching, also dwight has a thing for smells bc they help calm him down, characters listed are in order of how important they are to the fic, david comforts him, david is an angry man, dwight cries a lot, dwight has anxiety, dwight is afraid, entity gets everyone drunk, gossip claudette makes a feature with meg egging her on, killers are mentioned, one step forward twelve steps back, reverse bear traps and actual bear traps ahoy, so much blood, the mature warning is for gore bc Holy Shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-17
Updated: 2018-09-17
Packaged: 2019-07-13 11:04:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16016603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KomaedaClear/pseuds/KomaedaClear
Summary: Dwight decides to confront David about putting everyone in danger. It goes just as well as you would expect.





	Muddy Waters

**Author's Note:**

> Local Jock Punches Twink: More At 11
> 
> AAAAAAAAA hey guys im In Deep i LOVE this game too bad my shitty ass laptop CANT PLAY IT anyways, ive recently read oddfellows and i. died. this fic has Nothing to do with oddfellows btw im just a simple man
> 
> shoutout to MY BFF FOR BETA'ING ILY

Dwight has never been punched before. He’s been pushed, slapped, hit, spanked, but never punched. When he was younger he described his mother’s slaps as punches, as that was the only way to describe them at the time, but that was far from the truth — so fucking far. The seconds between seeing David’s fist and the foggy sky above him lasted a lifetime, yet no time at all. In the moment he stumbled back, heel catching onto a log and falling onto his back, but he recalled no memory of of the fall, just the sky above him, then the pain. Oh god, was the pain that exploded in his right cheek new and awful. The hit was nothing compared to what he’d experienced in the trials, but Dwight had a low tolerance by nature; plus, there was no trial to prepare him for this.

Pain, pain, pain. David was sitting on his chest, pummeling into his face with hard, calculated punches. Somewhere in the back of Dwight’s brain he knew that this shouldn’t be happening, that Bill or Tapp or _someone_ should be the mediator, stopping David before he went too far, but there was a trial going on. Bill, Tapp, Meg, and Nea were all in said trial, and everyone else was milling about the campfire or wandering the woods to stretch their legs. Barely any thoughts other than those quick ones of dread could actively get past the punching and the pain and the look on David’s face.

“Fuck you!” he was saying. “Fuck you! Fuck you!”

Dwight’s glasses were flung off in the process; the only thing clear to him was David’s angry eyes, and the closest part of the ground when his head was punched from side to side. He didn’t put up a fight because his survival instinct of _be still, he’ll get tired of it eventually_ stopped him. It had worked before, _should_ work now.

This all started when Dwight started pushing David’s buttons. David had gotten reckless more than once, and put everyone in danger way too often. The last few trials he was in had caused everyone to either be sacrificed or mori’d, and Dwight had been there to see it. When everyone got back, another trial started and the other four left. Dwight had stopped David from sitting down.

“We need to talk.” He hated confrontation. But he had to do it. He couldn’t let David fuck over any semblance of unity the group had. “Let’s go for a walk.”

David had been stern, crossing his arms. “If you have a problem we can sort it out here, mate.”

“Okay.” He had taken a breath. The only people in earshot were Kate, Ace, and Feng, but Ace was taking a nap and the two girls were talking quietly to themselves. “You need to stop running into danger. You keep getting people killed, and frankly, it’s really fucking with us.”

David shrugged. “Death happens. Not my fault if you’re all careless—”

“Not us, David. _You_. Once or twice is okay; I get it, shit happens, but everytime you’re in a trial, you get everyone killed. You need to keep yourself in check.”

David got up in his face. “Excuse me? You really think you should be making demands, you scrawny little twig?” he spat. “Who even put _you_ in charge?”

“Nobody, but that’s not the issue here. The _issue_ is you not giving a shit about anyone but yourself. You keep this up and you’ll be the only one left on the hook for the rest of our time here; and that’s going to be a long, long time.”

“Are you _threatening_ me, mate? Because if you are, you’ve got something coming.” David had cracked his knuckles and gave the most intimidating look Dwight had ever seen him give.

Dwight swallowed harshly, but stood his ground. “Maybe if you thought about anyone but yourself we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

“Oh, I think you’re asking for it.”

“Just stop being a fucking jerk and actually do what you’re supposed to do. Stop getting my people killed.”

“ _Your_ people?” he chuckled. “Fucking balls on you to say shit like this to me.”

It wasn’t working. Dwight wasn’t getting through to him, so he decided to dig a little deeper, do something he’d never done before.

“Big words coming from someone who drank and fought his life away.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. All you did was drink, never doing anything of value for anyone. You’re a liability to the group now — a liability to everyone.” The words left a sour taste in his mouth. “You’ll be no better than the killers if you keep this up.”

Of course, this exchange ended with Dwight on the ground, his face going numb from pain. David eventually slowed down his punches, losing the energy he had at the start when Dwight didn’t even try to put on a fight.

“Jesus Christ, what the fuck are you doing?” Jake must’ve come back from his walk. Perfect timing.

David was pulled off his chest and Dwight took a sudden, sharp breath when the weight left him. A few seconds passed and he was pulled into a sitting position, with Claudette’s familiar touch at his back.

“Hey, Dwight, can you hear me?”

“Yeah— ‘m fine,” he answered groggily. He blinked open his eyes but it was useless; everything was still a blur.

“The fuck is your problem? What’d he do to deserve that?” The fact that the solitary Jake was standing up for him meant something, it really did. “Got sick of picking on everyone else already? Why don’t you pull that shit with Bill, see how you like it when he won’t take your shit?”

“Fuck off—”

“No, _you_ fuck off. Have fun on the hooks.” Dwight barely focused on Jake moving to crouch by him as Claudette opened one of the medkits. “Hey, you alright, man?”

Dwight nodded. “I’m okay.” He tried to breathe through his nose, but the act was agonizing, so he stuck with mouth-breathing. He must have looked real peachy to everyone else.

“Holy shit.” The sound of Ace’s voice almost made Dwight snort— almost. “You nap for one second and miss out on all the fun.”

“Knock it off, Ace,” Claudette said. She was searching through a different medkit. “Maybe if you were awake this wouldn’t have happened.”

“Well, we were awake,” came from Kate. “And honestly, we didn’t even know anything was happening ‘til Dwight hit the ground. I don’t even know what they were arguing about.”

“The fucker insulted me—”

“Nobody cares, David.” Jake shook his head. “Jerk-off can’t keep his mouth shut.” He reached over and placed Dwight’s glasses on his face for him, flinching when a small whimper left Dwight’s lips as it hit the bridge of his nose. The throbbing in his head increased ten-fold.

Fucking great. Now Dwight looked even weaker.

“Okay, what in the hell happened here?” He looked up and saw the detective, standing over them, out of breath from running back from the trial.

“David beat the shit out of Dwight.”

“I’m fine—”

“Christ, Dwight, shut up, will you?”

Dwight tried his hardest to glare at Jake.

“David, you need to talk a walk.”

Dwight watched as David obeyed the detective, grumbling to himself as he stalked off with hunched shoulders.

“Anyone else escape?” Claudette asked, finally finding what she was looking for and dabbing at Dwight’s nose. He jumped at the sudden exploding pain, biting his tongue to hold back any sounds of distress.

The detective signed, shaking his head. “No, I’m afraid. We got the Nurse. Barely made it out through the hatch.” He crouched next to the trio. “Sorry I wasn’t here. This shit shouldn’t be happening.”

“It’s _fine_ , I just—I went too far. It’s my faul— ow!” He swatted Claudette’s hand away. “What are you doing?”

“Your nose is _fucked_ , Dwight.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “How do you expect me to fix it?” Dwight sat back compliantly. “Good.”

It didn’t take too long for her to determine that no, it wasn’t broken, he just needed to not fuck it up anymore. Dwight could do that. Soon enough, almost everyone was back at the campfire, waiting for the next trial to call them.

Everyone except David.

It didn’t matter because regardless of where you were, you could get pulled into a trial at anytime. Sometimes the entity would let you have a choice on the matter, but that was rare.

But Dwight couldn’t help feeling guilty, even after having his face punched repeatedly. Everyone told him he did his best, that David had the confrontation coming, that it wasn’t his fault he was punched; but still, Dwight couldn’t help it.

It didn’t surprise him in the slightest that he was called for the next trial. He grabbed a flashlight and stood, waiting to be transported. Looking around he could see Feng and Ace stand as well, he didn’t bother with any items this round. But there was three of them, which meant only one thing.

 

 

They were in the Red Forest; thick fog, no moonlight, and, just Dwight’s luck, he and David arrived facing each other.

Great.

David sneered in his direction before turning towards a nearby generator — convenient, but also not. Dwight approached slowly; not wanting to cause anymore tension between the two, he silently worked.

“Don’t be too reckless,” he said under his breath.

“What did you just say to me?”

“Just— be fuckin careful, okay? Please, just this once.”

They went silent after that. Dwight hoped David was in agreement.

Nothing too interesting happened the rest of the trial; they were up against the Wraith, which wasn’t too bad, and everyone managed to get out alive. Maybe that talk with David helped afterall.

At least, Dwight thought this until they got back to the campfire and David immediately wanted to start a fight.

“See? Nobody died! Either you’re all liars, or just plain fucking stupid.”

“We are not going to discuss this _now_ , David,” Meg sighed. “Just do your part like everyone else. You’re not going to get a cookie for being a decent human being.”

“Oh, you too, eh?” David made himself stand taller, glaring at everyone around him. “Anyone else got something to say to me? Or does everyone want to look like our friend Dwight ‘ere.” He cracked his knuckles and got into a fighting stance. “Come on, I ain’t afraid of ya.”

“David, back down, now.” Detective Tapp stood from where he sat. “Not everything has to end in bloody noses.”

David turned to him with a gleam in his eye. A challenger. Finally. “Thank god, someone with some muscle. It got tiring fairly quickly when that pussy of a man didn’t fight back.”

“That’s _enough_.” Dwight stood too. “No more fights. Please. Let it rest.”

“Oh, one bloody nose and you’re done, eh?” David turned to him now. “No wonder why you’re so scrawny and need others to back you up. I betcha, if it were only you an’ me, you would roll over like the dog you are. Pathetic.”

“David, enough.” Everyone had begun to stand, but that was Meg’s voice. Dwight gave a pointed look in her direction to deter her from poking the bear, but she didn’t seem to catch it, or she just ignored it — hee wouldn’t put that past her. “We get it, you’re used to your victories being handed to you on a silver platter, but you won’t get that here. Why don’t you give it up already?”

“Come on, then. You want a fight? Winner takes over as leader, huh? I’ll let each one of ‘ya fight for the matchstick, seeing as how he can’t do anything for himself—”

“Everyone, sit down. David, take a hike—”

“Oh, i’m sorry, did you say something? I couldn’t hear you over everyone jacking you off—”

Tapp walked briskly over and put a hand on his shoulder. “You need to stop this—”

“Oh, fuck off!” He pushed the detective away, fire burning in his eyes. He turned back towards Dwight and grabbed onto his shirt. “You think you’re everyone's favourite right now, but soon, they’ll see you for the weak, pathetic little shite you are. And by god, when that day happens, when you’re thrown aside like a piece of rotten meat, I’ll be the first to feet you to the wolves.” He threw Dwight onto the ground and marched into the treeline, disappearing from sight.

 

 

It was a while before he was seen again, and, lucky Dwight, he was the first. He was taking a nap by the campfire while some trials were happening, nursing a bad wound on his stomach. Meg, Nea, Jake, and Claudette were in a trial, and Feng, Bill, Ace, and Tapp were in another. Kate, Quentin, and Laurie were taking a walk, so it was just Dwight and the fire.

And David now. Spectacular.

Dwight peeked open one eye when he heard the approaching steps. David was looking right at him, gaze unreadable. Dwight closed his eye again.

“Nasty gash you got there, mate.” Dwight heard him sit on a log. “Looks painful.”

“Thanks,” he muttered bitterly. He held his tongue from making any bad remarks, seeing as he didn’t have any backup at the time.

The silence could only last for so long. “You really aren’t a fighter, huh?”

Dwight grunted in reply, opting to roll onto his side to face the fire. He held his breath and tried to ignore the pain in his abdomen.

“You, uh, alright there?”

“I’m fine.”

“Aren’t there any medkits left—”

“I said, I’m _fine_.”

“Alright.” Silence. And then, “You can really take a beating, eh?”

“Shut up and let me sleep,” Dwight grumbled. He wanted his rest just in case he got thrown into a trial. They had ran out of medkits just before he got slashed open by the Cannibal’s chainsaw, and he was goddamn lucky to be able to hobble back to camp. He just hoped someone would back soon before he had to go into a trial with his stomach in this condition.

A few minutes later, Dwight turned onto his stomach without thinking to get more comfortable. He groaned as pain shot up from his stomach. “Fuck.” Tears in his eyes welled up and he wiped them away. He wished he could actually handle pain like the others. He felt so weak everytime he would tear up over it.

David sighed loudly, and Dwight felt a twinge of guilt that he was such an inconvenience to him, but then his eyes shot open when David draped his coat over him. “Y’look cold there, mate,” he explained. “I may hate your guts, but I’m not about to watch you die from pain. At the very least you need your strength so I can kick your ass again.”

Dwight glared at him as he went back to his seat, but he couldn’t help curling a little into the large coat. And boy, was it large. He felt tiny under it. And although the throbbing pain was still there, he managed to relax just a little more, eyes slipping shut—

That all ended when he felt, deep inside his chest, a trial beginning.

Fuck.

He shot up where he sat as fog and darkness enveloped him, all feeling leaving his body before skyrocketing into feeling everything as he entered the trial.

MacMillan Estate. A trap near him. Spectacular.

He stood up slowly, putting on the coat and clutching his stomach. He made a step in the direction of a generator in the distance but he fell against a tree. Fuck, he could barely _walk_ , how could he ever hope to run from the _Trapper_? At least once he died he’d wake up perfectly fine. But even when he was like this, he had to at the very least help, so he tried his best to stumble towards the generator. Just as he slid to his knees to work, he heard Kate’s scream from not too far away. Fuck. He just needed to get through this and hope someone else was around, just in case she got hooked—

He jumped when David approached from the other side of the generator, just as a faint heartbeat started up and Kate screamed again.

“Get ready to run,” David whispered. Thank god he was being _quiet_ now. Dwight nodded, not having the heart to say he couldn’t, and kept working on repairing.

The heartbeat wasn’t going away. David suddenly stopped, looked around, and began a sprint behind Dwight. The shorter man turned, wincing at the pain, and moved as fast as he could, which was, essentially, a snail’s pace. He was doing generally okay until he tripped over a rock halfway between the generator and David, slamming hard onto the palms of his hands. He whimpered at the terrible throbbing that exploded in his stomach. He stood up, shaky and wobbly, stumbling a little to the side.

The wound reopened — that much he could gather from the growing red stain in his shirt. He brought a hand up to his shirt to feel, to make sure this wasn’t real, he couldn’t be this hurt at the beginning of a trial, he couldn’t be a burden to his fellow survivors—

His hand came away wet with red. His eyes met David’s, wide and fearful, and the larger man swore before rushing forward and literally sweeping him off his feet. This jostled the wound a little more, but Dwight kept quiet about it. David rushed them away from the area as fast as he could. He then shoved Dwight into a locker, forcing him to sit on the dirty bottom. “I’ll be back. Don’t come out,” he said gruffly, and, before Dwight could protest, slammed the door shut.

Dwight stared up at the closed doors to the locker in disbelief. David should’ve left him there, should’ve left him for the Trapper to find. Maybe he just wanted his jacket back. Yeah, that was it. Dwight was only worth the jacket to him.

The heartbeat faded away, and then David opened the locker doors, picking up Dwight again and carrying him back to the generator.

It went like this the rest of the trial: David would carry Dwight whenever the Trapper was near or when they needed to find a new generator. According to David, Kate died on the hook and Laurie had died trying to save her. Needless to say Dwight felt absolutely guilty for this. _He_ should’ve been the one to risk their life to get someone off the hook. Or he could have, at the very least, served as bait. Then David wouldn’t have to go out of his way to carry him everywhere.

He wouldn’t admit it, but when David would carry him, he felt...safe.

Finally, the last generator was done, and David picked him up again and ran towards one of the exit gates. Dwight couldn’t believe they would be making it out of there, especially with him being hurt so bad. They were almost there—

_SNAP._

David dropped Dwight as a bear trap clamped onto his leg. Without missing a beat, Dwight reached over to try to help undo the trap.

“No,” David hissed. “Go. Find the fuckin hatch.”

“No, I’m not leaving you. I can’t even make it to the hatch and you know this.”

The heartbeat grew and Dwight was frantic in trying to get the trap off. David just kept trying to swat his hands away. “Please, Dwight, don’t be a fucking idiot. Go!”

The Trapper appeared.

“Dwight, go!”

The Trapper was quick. He grabbed onto Dwight harshly and threw him over his shoulder. He landed on his wound and screamed. The sound rang out in David’s ears, heart dropping. There was a hook right in sight of David, and now he was the one frantically trying to get the trap off. He watched Dwight get flung haphazardly onto the hook, screaming and clawing at it in an attempt to escape. By some weird but amazing miracle, just as the Trapper was about to grab David, he somehow pulled himself off the hook.

Lucky bastard.

He made a move to stand, but flopped straight back down, eyes wide in shock that he managed to actually escape. The Trapper turned towards him, shoulders going tense in anger. David tore his foot from the jaws the trap just then, ignoring the pain and flinging himself past the Trapper to get to Dwight first.

“Dwight, move!” He pushed at the smaller man, trying to get him to stand, but every push somehow forced even more blood out of him, and he was going pale. “Come on!” He saw the beast of a killer stomp towards them and he flung himself over Dwight to try to shield him. With a grunt, the Trapper lifted him up and threw him onto the hook. He screamed, angry and in pain. “Dwight, get the fuck out of here!”

The Trapper held his weapon up high.

“No! Don’t you fucking dare—”

The resulting sounds of bones being crushed and muscle being smushed to jelly filled his ears, but nothing was more horrifying than Dwight’s resounding screams. It was pure torture. He screamed deliriously at the killer, “Get the fuck away from him! Stop!” Everytime David looked down, Dwight was bloodier and bloodier, the Trapper beating him from the feet up. At one point David thought he heard Dwight scream his name, asking for help, begging for the Trapper to stop. He only went silent when the killer finally, finally, planted the killing blow into his skull. David could only stare down at the bloody pulp of a leader until the entity reached its claws into him and dragged him towards itself for the sacrifice.

Death was practically normal around here. Everyone had gone through something, everyone had seen someone get killed. But for some reason when David next awoke, he couldn’t get the image of Dwight out of his head. He couldn’t stop hearing the sounds of his bones being crushed to nothing but dust. And the screams— he could still feel them pounding into his skull. Maybe it was because he had never saw the deaths up close, only hearing them from afar when he was well away from them.

He stumbled into the camp in a daze. Everyone looked up at him, but didn’t say anything. He sat down on a log next to Feng, who was fiddling with some sticks. Looking around, he noticed that Dwight wasn’t back yet.

He hoped the entity didn’t send the scrawny bastard straight into another trial.

A while passed until Dwight basically fell into camp, managing to stand up quickly and act like nothing happened. His eyes met David’s, but he looked away just as fast.

“Hey, Dwight,” Claudette greeted. “How was the trial?” At that, she eyed David carefully before turning her gaze back to her friend.

“It was fine. Wasn’t fun because of my stomach, but hey, i’m okay now at least.”

“Uh-huh. Well, we found two medkits if you need any—”

“Isn’t that David’s jacket?”

Now this caught everyone’s attention. David and Dwight’s eyes met for a brief second before turning to the source of the voice: Nea.

“What’re you wearing _that_ for?” She had a look of disgust on her face.

“I— I was cold. He gave it to me but then the trial started.” He shrugged the jacket off and walked over to give it back to its owner. “Here, you can have it back.”

David grabbed it back a little too roughly. “Thanks,” he muttered.

Dwight nodded and went back to sit beside Claudette.

 

David would be the first to admit that he admired Dwight. Just a little, though. The fact that the kid could take a beating from him and not break down in full-on tears was impressive. That, and the whole slashed open stomach deal. David’s seen older men break down for less.

 

 

David had gone onto one of his many walks through the forest. The trees always changed when no one was looking, and with luck, he’d take at least what he assumed to be an hour to get back to camp. On his way, though, he heard something.

Sniffling. Crying. Sobbing. He turned towards the sound and climbed over a boulder. There, between three large boulders and otherwise completely hidden from view, was Dwight. Sniffling, crying, and sobbing his heart out. Without thinking, David dropped down beside him. Dwight looked up in shock, eyes red and puffy and glasses removed. David took off his jacket and wrapped it around him, putting his arm over the smaller man’s shoulders and trying to provide some sort of comfort.

“I’m sorry—”

“What’re you apologizing for?” David gave his arm a couple of pats. “I can’t hear or see anything.”

They sat there for what felt like ages, with Dwight trying to contain his sniffles but failing, and David pretending nothing was happening. When Dwight stood up, so did David, and the two left the little boulder area. Dwight remembered to give David back his jacket and was a little faster in getting back to camp. David took his time. He gave Dwight a little nod when he walked in, sitting where he usually sat. Dwight nodded back, and that was that.

Since then, whenever Dwight took a little longer than the others to get back from a trial, David would walk around the area, spot him, and give him an arm and a jacket. Sometimes he’d tell a story about one of the many fights he’d been in, but most of the time they stayed silent, save for Dwight’s tears. This was their system. It was awkward, but functional. Dwight wouldn’t admit it, but having David there helped.

At one point, though, the Dwight that David had come across wasn’t the one he was used to. Dwight was hysterical, clawing at his hair and sobbing loudly on the ground where he sat, well aways from the campfire and hidden between a rock and a tree. David was quick to do what he always did, wrap the man in the jacket, but then he held him close to his chest

“Shh, shh, you’re alright, mate,” he whispered. “You’re okay.”

Dwight eventually calmed down enough to say, “I hate this fucking place,” through a broken sob. He shut his eyes tight and curled up in the jacket, letting David stroke his back.

“Me too.”

Dwight took a breath, then, “I wish— I wish I wasn’t the leader.” David froze. “I hate it. I hate it so much. I want to disappear again. I—” He choked up, falling silent shortly after.

David would’ve never expected to hear that from Dwight. But he guessed it made sense, for reasons unknown. Instead of asking Dwight about it, he continued to try to provide comfort and safety until Dwight could stand up on shaky legs.

He let Dwight keep the jacket for now.

 

 

It wasn’t uncommon for the survivors to fall asleep only to dream of a memory from their time in the entity’s realm. In fact, those were the only dreams they had. So Dwight really shouldn’t have been surprised when he awoke from a dream — a memory — of the Cannibal slicing him open with the chainsaw. He remembered how his blood spilled everywhere, heard the sound of his own distant screams. It was all he could do to not scream when he woke up. In his half-asleep state he could only process the fear, hands finding purchase on the large jacket cocooning him to ground himself. He brought the neck of the jacket up to his face briefly, catching the familiar smell of David on it. For some reason, it brought him comfort. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, enveloping himself in its safety.

Right. This was David’s jacket., and appearing in it for the second time has definitely drawn suspicion, he’d noticed. When he got back some time ago after his breakdown, he avoided everyone’s eyes, feeling their stares as he sat down. Thankfully, no one questioned it.

He turned over on his side, taking another deep breath, and his eyes met David’s across the fire. The man, too, had appeared to be sleeping, taking one of the few chances they had to rest. As soon as their eyes met, however, David looked away. Dwight’s face flushed in realization that David had saw him smell his jacket. He rolled back onto his back and covered his face with the collar. He hoped no one else saw.

 

 

It was a bad trial.

The killer they had, the Pig, was particularly angry this round. He put reverse bear traps on all of them (Tapp, Laurie, Dwight, and David) and two of them had run out of time. They only had one generator done and the Pig was only watching them try to get to the jigsaw boxes. But this was the swamp; huge, and neither Dwight nor David knew where the jigsaw boxes were.

Dwight managed to run straight into David on his way to the third box when he saw it in the distance. But, of course, David had to trip and fall on top of him. Dwight frantically pushed up at David, trying to get him off because he was _running out of time_ , couldn’t he see that? David lifted himself up, met his gaze, and—

The snap was practically inaudible to Dwight as he screamed at the sight of so much blood, David’s jaw ripping right open, body flopping on top and pinning him down. His tongue hung loosely over Dwight’s own bear trap. The sight was gruesome, and blood obscured his vision, warm and goopy and filling all his senses as he screamed and screamed. He couldn’t push David’s dead weight off himself.

The timer ticked.

Ticked.

Ticked.

The bear trap snapped his jaw open. Pain clouded all senses until the fog took him back.

He woke up in cold moss, the jacket being his only protection against it. He stood slowly and shakily. For once, he felt incredibly calm — too calm. He swayed over to a tree and put his hand on it. The bark felt rough under his fingertips, but it was like he was numb. He couldn’t focus on it. The overwhelming calmness seemed to make him float and he couldn’t focus in front of him. His hands clenched and unclenched until they grabbed onto the jacket. His eyes shut and he breathed in deeply. The smell of David overrode all his senses, but the feeling of comfort and safety was soon replaced by the fear and pain of the trial before. He had to let go of the jacket to be able to _breathe_ , to try to ignore all he saw. This reminded him too much of his first trial, of the feelings he felt before when he first came face to face with the Trapper and entity. He steeled himself and ignored everything. Pushed all thoughts aside like he did all his life. Simple.

At least, he thought it was simple.

Dwight couldn’t look anyone in the eyes. He walked into camp, sat down, and stared at the fire. Going over the image in his head of David; again, and again. God, why couldn’t he stop _thinking_ about it? Ignoring his thoughts and feelings was _supposed_ to work. He jumped at the touch on his shoulder.

“Hey, Dwight,” Jake greeted nonchalantly, sitting down beside him. “Still wearing the jacket?”

“I’m cold.” He was surprised to find his voice so steady.

Jake nodded. “Fair. You seen him? He hasn’t come back yet.”

“No.” Again, he was shocked at his own voice. He sounded so...cold. He stood suddenly. “I’m going for a walk.”

Jake nodded again, taking a cigarette out and lighting it. “Alright, have fun.” He seemed to silently understand that his friend was going through something. He didn’t know what, but that was fine. Nobody needed to know.

Dwight walked off in a random direction, trying to make sense of what the fuck he saw. He’s seen people get disemboweled — hell, he’s experienced it — but reverse bear traps? He’s seen the aftermath, heard what it’s like, but it was indescribable now that he’s both seen it and experienced it firsthand.

And the _blood._

Why couldn’t he handle that _now_? He was okay before. He was fine— no, _is_ fine. There was nothing wrong. He would forget it in a day or two (whenever those passed).

“You doin’ alright there, mate?”

Dwight spun around to see David, leaning against a tree and looking tired, dark circles under his eyes. No remnants of the reverse bear trap, nothing to show he just had his jaw completely ripped open.

“You—” Dwight swallowed. He couldn’t find his voice. He stared blankly ahead, not sure what to feel.

When no other words came out, David pointed to himself. “Me?”

Dwight took a step forward, then another. He didn’t even realize the relief he felt, seeing David like this, without the reverse bear trap, without his jaw being torn open; alive.

“I saw the— the bear trap. I saw it kill you.”

David looked away for a second, then looked back. “Yeah, sorry ‘bout that. Must’ve been a mess, huh?” He gave a little smile and chuckled. Dwight choked on a sob which caused David’s face to fall completely, and he walked towards him with open arms. “Aw, c’mere,” he said quietly. Dwight didn’t hesitate to walk forward into his arms, sobbing softly into his cotton shirt.

“It— it tore you open,” he sobbed. “The blood. There was s-so much blood.” David’s arms tightened around him.

“Shh, it’s okay, love,” he whispered. “Let it out, let it all out. We’re safe now, see? All here.” He held Dwight’s head in his hands so they could make eye-contact. “Hey, hey, lookit me Dwight. See? No trap. Not hurt. And neither are you.”

Dwight stared up at him, searching his face. He was right; no traps, everything was fine, they were both safe, nothing was wrong.

So why did he feel like that wasn’t the case? Why did he feel like everything _was_ wrong?

David held Dwight tightly to him, feeling his tears soak his shirt. Throwing all dignity out the window, Dwight curled his head into David’s shoulder, hands gripping at him tightly.

He couldn’t stop the overflow of tears and emotions he felt in that moment. It all came out in a waterfall. “It hurts,” he sobbed. “Fucking— everything just _hurts_ all the goddamn time and I can’t breathe—”

“Shh.”

“No matter what I do I can’t fucking do shit. I can’t protect anyone. Someone always dies and it’s always my fault—”

“Hey, hey, shut up, okay?” David hugged a little tighter. “Everything's okay. It’s not your fault. You’re okay, love.”

They stood there until Dwight calmed down, taking shuddering breaths. As he pulled away, he couldn’t meet David’s eyes. He went to pull off the jacket but David stopped him.

“Keep it,” he said. “You need it more than me.”

Side by side, they walked in the direction of the campfire in silence. When it came into view, they went to separate sides of the fire; Dwight sitting between Jake and Meg, and David beside Bill. Everyone seemed preoccupied in a story Ace was telling, Jake being the only one who noticed Dwight’s arrival.

 

 

Sometimes, the entity did something right, and that right, was booze. Boxes of beer and other assortments of alcoholic beverages appeared after a trial one day. Dwight sat next to Claudette and Meg on a log, nursing a couple of beers. Ace had already gone through a lot but didn’t seem all too different, and David looked right at home doing cheers with Bill. It was nice, for a change, to hear everyone laugh and be happy.

Dwight was never really one to drink much before, never going out to social events or bars or anything, and even his trips to the liquor store were few and far between. But god, he loved this; drinking with friends. He wished he could have done this before the entity.

“Nea, no! Get off that tree!” Despite her words, Feng was laughing, doubling over at the sight of Nea climbing a tree and hanging upside down.

Dwight to the side and eavesdropped on a conversation between Tapp and Meg to the right of him.

“So, you okay with a bunch of children drinking?” she asked playfully.

“None of you are children, but even if you were, I’d say that being here warrants _some_ leeway.”

“Hey, Dwight, Meg; Jake wants to go for a walk,” Claudette said. Dwight looked up to see Jake leaning against a tree, waiting for them. He got up and followed the two girls over, looking back at the group around the fire. David must’ve gone for a walk, too, because Bill had to deal with Ace who was now actually, incredibly, drunk.

“Come on, guys,” Jake said.

The four walked into the cool fog of the forest. Dwight appreciated this, being with the other three. He remembered when it was just them. Lonely, but not. Meg was the one to lead most of the conversations. Jake kept to himself at first, but gradually came out of his shell. And Claudette was just happy she wasn’t alone in this. The three had listened to Dwight, going with his strategies, making the trials a lot easier to handle.

Everything was different now, with the more people that join, but Dwight was okay with that. It made everyone all the more happier.

“Don’t you miss when it was just us?” Meg asked, spinning around on the tips of her toes. She seemed to be thinking the same thing as Dwight. “No fighting, nobody trying to dismantle the whole family—”

“No interesting conversations?” Claudette laughed. “Face it, Meg, when it was just us we couldn’t hold a conversation for the life of us.”

“At least it was a lot quieter.” Jake slung an arm around Claudette. “Thank god we don’t have to stay there constantly. I swear, one more second of hearing Ace hit on everyone in his vicinity and I would’ve torn my own ears off.”

“Flirting? With _you_? I’m pretty sure that’s just a big joke.” Meg walked backwards, taking a swig of her drink.

“Hey what’s _that_ supposed to mean?” Jake let go of Claudette to take a playful swing at Meg.

It was rare to see Jake like this, playful and open. Seeing him break out of his solitary shell was an amazing sight for Dwight. He almost felt like a proud dad.

He stopped to lean against a tree, happily watching his friends joke around. He was pleasantly drunk. This was nice.

When his friends settled down, Claudette leaned in conspirately. “So, Dwight,” she began.

“Oh, fuck yeah, Gossip Claudette. I love this girl!” Meg leaned in, too, while Jake just watched from nearby.

“What is it?” Dwight laughed.

She tugged at the sleeve of David’s jacket. “Still wearing the jacket, huh?”

“Ooh, he’s wearing the jacket!”

Dwight brought the beer to his lips and sipped shyly. “So? It’s warm.”

“I’m sure, I’m sure. Soo, you and David keep coming back late, right?”

Dwight’s face almost fell but he hid it with another drink.

“Oh my god, Claudette, are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting?” Meg’s voice came in too loud of a whisper.

“Dwight, are you and David... _together_?” The last part came out as a whisper and Dwight choked on his drink.

“What? _No!_ No, no no, not at all. He— he punched me, remember?” He was panicking now. “You know him, he just— he hates everyone. He’s an asshole, you know?” He took another sip of beer. “I hate him, too. He’s rude, and— and an asshole, and he fucks up trials.”

Thank god the others were too drunk to notice his rambling. Claudette shrugged while Meg hit her, complaining that she should have better gossip than Dwight’s nonexistent love life. Dwight looked around everywhere but at his friends before the girls started dragging him and Jake back to the campfire, completely forgetting the little bit of ‘gossip’ they were discussing. Jake placed his arm around Dwight’s shoulder and walked with him.

Yeah, needless to say, Dwight loved his friends. Even if they thought he and David could ever be— a _thing_ , he still loved them.

 

 

David was avoiding him. It wasn’t even his usual avoidance; everytime Dwight would return from a trial, David would leave. And when the entity would let them choose who would be in the trial, if Dwight didn’t volunteer, David would. And when Dwight had to take a moment after a trial to collect himself, he found himself burying his face into the jacket even as the smell faded away, and David wasn’t there to comfort him anymore.

At one point, he decided to not go back to the campfire. Just for once, he wanted time for himself. So, he found a boulder, and sat, seeing nothing but the fog and trees.

It was nice not having anyone to rely on him for once, having a chance to breathe, a chance to not have to give any pep-talks, to not have to try to find out a different strategy to juke out the killers. Tapp can do that. He’s good at that stuff. Dwight can just sit back and be there for _himself_.

Of course, his time alone had to end up with him in tears, as it usually does. But it wasn’t because of the stupid trials or the overwhelming fear of failing his fellow survivors,o, he had to cry over the fact that he was getting too attached to David, that all those times where David was there for him meant _nothing_. Of course it meant nothing. Why should it matter when David was aggressive and beat the shit out of him? God, David was right. He really was weak and pathetic, crying over something that wasn’t real. He threw the jacket over the boulder and watched it fall into some mud. He buried his face in his hands at his stupidity; now the jacket was _dirty_ and David was going to hate him even more.

He must’ve waited too long because suddenly the entity was calling, fog was enveloping, and he was at the Crotus Penn Asylum. He immediately crouched and looked around: no traps. Good. He slowly made his way forward, listening out for anything. Nothing. Thank god. He managed to get to a generator with no troubles and started working.

“Oh, fucking christ.”

Dwight ignored the familiar voice of David, opting instead to continue repairing. David came up in front of him and helped. Of course it was just his luck that David was in the trial, too. Dwight glanced up and noticed David looking over him, clearly noticing the missing jacket. Guilt clawed at Dwight’s stomach.

“I lost it,” he whispered. David just shook his head and ignored him.

As soon as the generator turned on, they ran in separate directions. Dwight glanced around and saw the Shape heading towards it, thankfully not noticing him yet. He slowed down and hid in a locker. Another generator nearby was finished, and the Shape turned towards it, which was, inconveniently, in the same direction Dwight was in. He held his breath. The Shape walked towards him. Closer. Closer. Until he was flinging the locker doors open and grabbing Dwight harshly, slinging him over his shoulder.

Dwight shook and tried to wiggle his way out of the man’s grasp, but it was no use. The all too familiar pain of the hook exploded from his shoulder. As the Shape left him there, he stared all around him. Thank god the entity allowed him to see where his friends were in such a critical movement. There was only one person close enough to save him, though.

David.

Dwight stopped struggling as he watched David come out from behind a corner. Their eyes met. David paused.

“David,” breathed Dwight, “help me.”

The larger man stood there, staring, then slowly turned away.

“No, no, please, David, don’t just leave me here!” he cried. “Help me!”

David just turned and walked away, ignoring Dwight’s protests and leaving him to die on the hook.

 

 

Dwight stumbled angrily into camp, clenching and unclenching his fists. He wasn’t surprised to see everyone else from the trial already back. As soon as he was spotted, David stood to go.

“David.” All conversations slowed at the sound of Dwight’s voice. “What the fuck was that?”

The man in question shrugged, crossing his arms and tilting his head. “I don’t know what you mean, mate,” he said gruffly. “Far as I know, you got caught and nobody was there to save you.”

“You fucking know what you did.” Dwight didn’t hesitate to step up to him. “You left me on the fucking hook. The Shape was long gone by then; why the fuck didn’t you even try?”

“Hey, calm down, Dwight.” Tapp tried to move him back but he didn’t budge. “We don’t need a repeat of—”

“This doesn’t concern you.” Dwight glared at the detective, making him back off. An angry Dwight was a rare sight, but nonetheless scary. He turned back to David and poked him in the chest. “You’re a fucking dick. You know you don’t fucking leave anyone on the hook if you can help it.”

“Oh, and I suppose you magically losing my coat was a fucking accident? I get it, mate,” he leaned down, voice lowering, “you don’t like me neither.”

Dwight shoved him. He took a surprised step back, but was quick to come back with a punch. He held his cheek, tears brimming.

“Oh what, you like getting punched? Is that why you’re coming at me? Is that why you sat there and did nothing? Is that why you don’t do shit during trials? You’re fucking weak—”

With a cry of rage, Dwight swung his fist and struck David’s chin.

The whole group was silent, save for Dwight’s heavy breathing, and then David grabbed Dwight and threw him backwards. He stumbled, tripping over a log, and fell onto his back, narrowly missing the fire. Tapp put his hand on David’s chest to stop him from attacking Dwight anymore.

“Alright, before this shit gets worse, the both of you need to calm the fuck down. David, until you can be part of our group without beating the shit out of us, I don’t want you back in camp. And Jake, take Dwight for a walk.”

“I can go for a walk by myself,” Dwight said as he stood. Without looking at anyone, he walked off, shoulders hunched and posture defensive.

Unsurprisingly, he ended up at the same boulder he was on before the trial. Without thinking, he grabbed up the muddy jacket and smelled it. Nothing. No more David.

 _Good riddance_ , he told himself. All David did was hurt him. He didn’t deserve anything given back to him.

This was just how it was supposed to be.

 

 

Nobody interacted with David for a good while. He would sometimes come back to the fire, but that was the extent of it. And, in trials, if he got on the hook, nobody would bring him back down. Dwight still tried to be the hype man when the trial was about to start, but ultimately his state of almost constant moping put quite a damper on the group.

Every once in a while, when Dwight would wander away from the campfire, he’d end up on that boulder and look down at the jacket. He didn’t know why the entity would torture him like this; why wouldn’t it just take the jacket away? Wasn’t the forest supposed to be ever-changing? In boiling anger, he threw a rock at the jacket, watching the goopy mud splash.

He still wanted to know why David did a complete 180 and hated him so much. Did he do something wrong? Probably.

“Is that my fucking jacket?”

Dwight whipped his head to his right to see David standing with his hand on a tree, staring at the mud.

“What the fuck is it doing in the mud?!”

“I—”He swallowed harshly. “It—”

David’s eyes flicked up to him, full of anger. “Is that where it’s been?” he spat. “In the fucking mud?” He approached the boulder.

Dwight wringed his hands around, guilt and anxiety eating him up. What could he say? _“It didn’t smell like you so I threw it away”? “I thought you wouldn’t want it back since you hate me so much”?_

“Are you gonna fucking answer me or what?”

“I’m sorry.” His voice cracked, betraying how _weak_ he was. He opted to stare at the boulder instead of meeting David’s eyes.

“Fuck me,” David muttered, running a hand over his hair. “How the fuck am I supposed to get that clean?”

Dwight shrugged and picked at the dirt covering the boulder in lieu of reply. He looked over to watch as David picked up the jacket with disgust on his face. He sighed, trying to wipe off the excess mud but he only managed to get himself dirty instead.

“Really?” He looked up at the scrawny man. “You just had to do this, huh? Hate me that much?”

“I don’t hate you,” Dwight was quick to protest. “ _You’re_ the one that hates _me_!”

“That’s not what you said to your friends.”

Dwight froze.

“Oh yeah, I heard ’ya. Heard everything. And let me tell ’ya, it didn’t feel good. But if you hate me so much, that’s fine. I’ll just return the favour.”

“I’m sorry, I only said that because I didn’t want them to think we were—”

“—Together, right?” David sneered. “Ohh, I’m sure you don’t want it to get out that their big leader is actually just a big crybaby and only fucking calms down when the _guy who punched him_ is there to hold him.” He shook his head and chuckled, jacket falling back into the mud. “Just my fucking luck. You know, I really thought we could be friends, but I guess I was wrong.”

“David—”

“No, no, I get it. You need your fucking alone time. Why don’t you sit there and mope while the rest of them are busting their asses to prepare for trials?”

“Fuck you, David.” Dwight slid down the boulder, shoes squelching in the mud. “What do _you_ know about leadership? Do you even fucking care about anyone?”

“What do I know? What do _you_ know, pizza boy?” David pushed him into boulder. “Yeah, I fucking heard what you did before all this. Just because you were an assistant manager to fucking pizza place doesn’t mean _you_ know how to be a leader. But you know what? That’s fine! Everyone is doing fucking splendid at camp without you! You can’t even defend yourself properly. You just sit there, and do _nothing_!”

Dwight looked away, breathing heavily, David’s words ringing in his head. _“You just sit there, and do nothing!”_ He’s heard that before.

“Oh, there we go again. Not gonna say anything?” David pushed him again. “You know, it’s times like these when I question what the fuck made people follow _you_.” Without waiting for Dwight to reply, he turned on his heel and stalked off.

When David was well out of sight, Dwight fell to his knees and buried his head and arms into the jacket and cried. Why did David have to hear what he said to the others? Why was he such a fucking dumbass?

 

 

Dwight stumbled his way through the forest, holding the jacket. He had a lot of time to think since David left him there, and in that time, he decided he needed to make things right — or, at least, make it so they stood on neutral ground instead of constantly yelling at each other. To do that, he planned to clean the jacket. Simple.

Only, it _would_ be simple if the entity would let them have water.

“If you could do _one thing right_ , please give me fucking water,” he said to the sky. He hoped the entity could hear him. If not, his wandering would just be a waste of time and he’d show up to camp dripping mud.

Just his luck, he heard something from ahead. Bubbling water. _A stream_. With a sigh of relief, he jogged towards it, almost jumping for joy when he saw the clear water reflecting the moon on its surface. He threw himself into it, the cold shocking his skin but refreshing all the same. He had to lay there for a few seconds to enjoy it while he could. He couldn’t remember the last time he was able to take a bath. When he figured he had soaked his clothes enough, he took the jacket and started to wash away the mud. Thankfully, no stains seemed to stay, and soon he was able to hang it and his own clothes on a branch to dry.

There was no greater wonder of the world than being clean, he decided, sitting down so that the water came up to his chest. He had forgotten what it was like to not be caked in blood and mud, and he was pleased to see that he had acquired no scars from being hooked as many times as he had.

For once, he had found peace in this little nightmare of his. He hoped it would last.

 

 

He walked into camp feeling refreshed, jacket slung over his shoulder. He wasn’t surprised to see David leaning against a tree away from the group, scowling at nothing in particular. Dwight approached him with the jacket held.

“Here,” he said. “A peace offering.”

David looked from him to the jacket, then back again before snatching it away aggressively. “Thanks,” he muttered as he put it on.

Dwight nodded and went to sit in his usual spot, hoping that David would take the hint and not try to punch him again.

 

 

The trials started seeing improvements. Dwight got back into his habit of pep-talks and strategies, and David actually started helping people off hooks. Moral was boosted due to the stream being almost a constant, nobody was fighting, and they even sat around to hear one of Ace’s tales of woe.

David had made his home leaning against that same tree every time he came back to camp, not really bothering too much with talking, but that was fine with everyone.

Everyone except Dwight.

There was an itch under his skin that started when people started coming back from trials without dying. In fact, no one has died in quite a while, and Dwight couldn’t help but think that the entity wasn’t pleased. The hooks were there, afterall, for them to be sacrificed to the entity. That meant that when they weren’t sacrificed, the entity wasn’t eating, and that made Dwight afraid. The killers had started getting angrier, too; more aggressive, harder to avoid. Dwight was at the very least thankful that his strategies were working.

In a lull between trials, everyone opted to get some sleep; even without day and night cycles it was best to rest up. Dwight closed his eyes, back against a log between Jake and Meg, and did his best to fall asleep.

Just his luck, he had to dream about the reverse bear trap and how it tore David open right in front of him. He woke up sweating and clutching at his shirt, breathing hard with tears rolling down his face. He looked around at his companions; sleeping peacefully around the campfire, hopefully not dreaming at all. He looked over at David to make sure the other man was okay.

He was hunched over against his tree, jacket pulled up to hide his face. Dwight felt a pang in his heart when he remembered the last time he awoke from a bad memory, wrapped up in David’s jacket. He missed that. Fuck, he missed _David_. He missed being able to come back from a trial knowing that someone _understood_ and that they wouldn’t hesitate to hold him.

Did he really throw that away just so nobody would think that he and David were a thing? Did he care that much about what they thought? He shook his head and stood, carefully making his way past his friends so he could go for a walk.

He tried to plan in advance just in case the entity got desperate enough to have a survivor sacrificed that it would change things up. What if only three survivors went into a trial? Or two? Is it every man for himself, or should they try to save the other person? Nobody liked being left on a hook, but everyone had already agreed that one person getting out is better than none. Would the entity force them to complete all five generators even with two people? What if they lost the hatch?

His mind was spinning with possibilities. He found himself in a familiar area: the spot where David had found him that first time.

Goddamnit, did _everything_ have to go back to him? Dwight ran his fingers through his hair in mild irritation. He wished he could go one second without that man invading his thoughts.

Dwight turned to go back to camp to voice his concerns about the trials to the group when he bumped right into the chest of none other than David.

“Sorry,” Dwight muttered. He moved to step aside but David took a step with him. “Uh—”

“What’d you dream about, mate?” David crossed his arms to show that it was more of a demand than a question.

Dwight blinked up at him. Of course he would know that Dwight woke up. Why should he have expected anything less?

“It was nothing,” he said through gritted teeth. “Let’s go back.” He took another step, and David followed.

“No, I know you.” David put a hand on Dwight’s shoulder to stop him from moving away. “You don’t dream ’bout nothing and wake up almost screaming.”

Dwight cringed at himself. Did he really almost scream? He was lucky nobody else woke up with him.

“Now, you tell what happened or I swear I’ll kick your ass.”

With a sigh, Dwight complied. “It was the bear trap, okay? The one that—” He swallowed, saying the last part quietly, “the one that killed you.” His shoulders slumped and he hung his head.

David seemed confused. “Bear trap? No bear trap has killed me. What’re you—”

“Stop, it doesn’t matter anymore.”

They stood in silence for a few seconds before David realized what he meant. “Oh, you mean the _reverse_ bear trap, right?” he asked quietly.

Dwight nodded.

“That still bothers you?”

“Why do _you_ care?” Dwight sneered. “It’s not like any of that matters anymore.” He turned to walk away but the hand on his shoulder stopped him.

“Of course it matters!” He forced Dwight to look him in the eyes. “I don’t know about you, but I remember how that shit left you. You think I’m gonna stand by and watch you wander around crying again?”

“I’m not—”

“You didn’t deserve to see that shit. You don’t deserve any of this, and you bloody well don’t deserve some asshole like me.” He slipped his jacket off his shoulders and forced Dwight into it, ignoring the smaller man’s protests. “Here, and don’t you fucking dare give it back to me.”

Dwight stared up at him, confused. “Don’t you hate me?” he asked quietly.

David’s face softened, something Dwight had never seen before. “I don’t think I ever could.”

 

 

Dwight refused to answer any questions about the jacket, especially ones where they brought up the fact that David previously punched him. He knew it was weird, he knew he probably shouldn’t have accepted it from him, but he couldn’t give it back; not when David had told him so adamantly to keep it, not when he finally felt _safe_ again.

As for the conversation that had happened between them, Dwight didn’t know what to think. David clearly said he didn’t hate him. That was good, right? Of course it was.

Dwight told himself this whenever he looked at David across the fire to see the older man blatantly ignoring him.

Despite Dwight’s predictions, nobody was ready for the new killer; the Spirit. Jake, Claudette, and Nea had come back with a new survivors and the news that all of them had been hooked. When Adam arrived he was clearly distraught, so Dwight had taken it upon himself, as usual, to explain everything to him and introduce him to everyone. Warm welcomes made the newcomer come out of his shell and he was practically right at home.

Another trial with the Spirit and Dwight gathered everyone for their routine meeting to discuss any new strategies, but their knowledge was limited. Nobody knew exactly what the new killer could do.

“Teleportation?” Laurie asked in disbelief after Adam had brought it up. “You mean like the Hag?”

“No, the Hag has to draw on the ground to do that. The Spirit reminds me of the Wraith,” Nea said.

“Or Freddy.” Quentin shuddered at the thought.

“Well, for now, focus on hiding and getting to generators. Don’t be a hero if you can help it. Try to bait her away from the hooks; if she can teleport, we need to take advantage of pallets and looping her. If the hatch appears, stay close to it. Just in case.” Everyone nodded along as Dwight spoke. “Remember to keep track of her, too; see how she moves, how she reacts. This is no different than any other killer. I want everyone to keep an eye and ear out for any triggers to her teleportation. If she can go invisible to move, then treat her like the Wraith. Everyone got that?” Nods and agreements all around. “Good.”

Everyone went to their usual spots, opting to hammer Adam for details about his life — anything to distract them from the usual boredom. Dwight looked over to David out of habit, breath catching in his throat when their eyes met. For once, David didn’t look away. Steeling himself, Dwight stood, and, pointedly staring at David while he did this, said, “I’m going for a walk.”

“Have fun,” Jake said from beside him, drawing in the dirt with a stick.

David stood, too, and when Dwight walked by, he followed.

Walking in complete silence was a nice break from all the excited voices from the camp. He was thankful they were walking on an unfamiliar path, hoping to come across something _new_ so he wouldn’t have to think about what to say. He didn’t know why he wanted to walk with David, he just knew that he did.

“So, what’s up?” David asked. “Everything alright?”

Dwight nodded. “Yeah. Everything is fine.” He paused when they came up to a dried up riverbed, sliding down to its bottom to sit on some tree roots sticking out of the ground. David sat beside him. “Just thought it’d be nice to go for walk.”

“I see.” They sat in silence for a little while before David spoke up again. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For punching ’ya.” He picked up a rock and twirled it around in his hand. “Ruined your pretty face there for a bit.”

Dwight ignored what David said about his face, opting instead to focus on the apology. “It’s okay. I was out of line to provoke you.”

“Still,” David shrugged, “I’m surprised you trusted me after that.”

“Well, you gave me your jacket, so that kinda balances it out.”

“Only like me for my jacket, I see?” He chuckled as he patted Dwight’s back. “Looks better on you anyways.”

“Oh, I— thank you.” He took a breath. “You know, what I said to Claudette and the others, I didn’t mean it.” He looked at the side of David’s face pleadingly. “I’m sorry for that. I don’t hate you, I swear.”

David looked back at him, eyes searching Dwight’s face for something. “I don’t hate you, either,” he said quietly.

They stared at each other silently until Dwight reached around him slowly and gave him a hug. David hesitated before hugging back, squeezing slightly.

Dwight missed this. He missed everything about this. Intimacy was hard to come by in the entity’s realm. He was just glad he could have this, even if he expected whatever they had to end right after.

“I wish I could take your place in trials,” David said to the top of Dwight’s head. “You don’t deserve that shit.”

“It’s okay.” Dwight held him a little tighter. “If you did that, I think people would get suspicious,” he joked.

“I don’t care.” He pulled back a little so he could look at Dwight’s face. “Let them think what they think; if they have a problem they can take it up with me.”

Dwight swallowed harshly. “What would they have a problem with?”

David shrugged. “Probably the fact that I’ve punched you on two separate occasions and you’re still wearing my jacket.” He gave Dwight a little smile. “But who cares? They don’t know what we have.”

“What we have?” Dwight looked away. “W— what do you mean?”

David shrugged. “I’m gonna be real with you, mate. Back home— I didn’t do this like this. Feelings, I mean.”

“Feelings?”

David brought a hand to Dwight’s cheek, gentle and soft. “It hurt me when you said that shit. I really thought you meant it.” He closed his eyes and touched their foreheads together. “No matter how much of a pain in my ass you are, I care about you.”

Nobody had ever said anything like that to Dwight before. Nobody even cared enough to hold him like this, to make him feel _safe_ and _wanted_ ; not his parents, not his friends, not his family.

He closed his eyes too, relishing in this moment between them. He didn’t know what to say. He hoped leaning into David’s touch was enough.

David’s grip suddenly tightened as a familiar feeling crept up on him. “Fuck me,” he muttered. “Fucking trial.”

Dwight opened his eyes as David pulled back. “Stay alive,” he whispered. That was all he could to say.

David cracked a smile at him. “When have I done anything different?”

And then the entity’s claws came down and took him away from Dwight’s arms. His heart dropped at the loss of contact. Well after David had left, Dwight brought the collar of the jacket up to his nose, breathing in deeply. It took all his might not to cry at the thought of what might happen to David, of the possibility that when David came back, something might have happened to make him forget about Dwight. Nothing like that has ever happened to any of the survivors, but he couldn’t help to worry.

He hoped David knew he cared about him, too.


End file.
